


requiem in reverse

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Five Stages of Grief, M/M, Sequel, Temporary Character Death, Work In Progress, s08 ep14: requiem, the return of Lex Luthor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 11:02:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12816129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: Here comes a feeling you thought you'd forgotten.SEQUEL TO: the stars can wait for your sign (don't signal now)





	requiem in reverse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or-
> 
> 5 stages of dying after losing the love of your life

 

**SEQUEL TO:**

[the stars can wait for your sign (don't signal now)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12133902)

 

 

 _I'm spinning, how quickly the sun can drop away. And_ _now my bitter hands cradle broken glass of what once was everything._

_**[Black](https://youtu.be/QV2iYFl5eSk)**  (_ _Pearl Jam)_

 

**THE 5 STAGES OF GRIEF**

 

**1\. SHOCK**

 

He walks through the back door and stands, peering at his hands. Lex's ashes are a dusty film on his hands, the doorknob, the front of his jacket. Lex hadn't been welcomed at the house in years. It had taken _dying_ to allow him through the door again. 

Dad would've hated knowing it but dad's not here either. The dead can't argue, he thinks numbly.

"Clark honey, is that you?" 

Mom acts like dad's death never happened but it's not intentional. When she hears boots she assumes they potentially belong to a man Clark will never amount to rather than the son they shared. Maybe he'll be the same. When the barn door creaks, he'll peek down at the stairs, half expecting polished shoes and a silver Porsche in the driveway. 

"It's me," he answers. 

Who will take pity on _him_ and announce themselves before putting a foot on the aging stairs? Pete probably. Chloe and Lana are too preoccupied with their own feelings to even call and check on him. 

Clark touches the ashes, right hand to left. For one irrational moment, he considers taking  _Lex_ to the barn but what would they do? Argue over everything from Lana to what horrid section of Greek history Clark the deceiver belongs to? They could refuse to apologize instead. 

Like old times. 

They shouldn't. 

Mom is piling the counter with casserole ingredients before Clark can even acknowledge her. He finally looks up. When a person dies, it's customary to bring food to the loved ones who mourn their passing. Shouldn't...shouldn't their fridge be packed with food prepared by loving people? Shouldn't neighbors be wearing the doorbell out by now, hands laden with comfort food? 

Then again, Lex had burned every bridge he'd built before he went out like a firework.

Mom is trying and failing at covering up the lack.  "Are you hungry?" She asks, tossing a bag of shredded potatoes next to a half empty container of cheese. 

Is he?

Numb, he wants to reply with but she asked about food and he doesn't have the energy to elaborate. He nods. 

"I'm making your favorite," she replies. "Hashbrown casserole." 

It's dad's favorite. Not Clark's.

He doesn't correct her. 

He washes Lex away with the hottest tap water he can get and his whole body trembles. Mom hugs him, her small arms around his waist and wet cheeks hidden. He can't feel a damn thing aside from a violent shake that even permeates his speech. Shock, mom explains. When the grief is too overwhelming for your body to handle, your brain dims the lights.

That's how she put it. 

Autopilot. 

It's preferable for now. 

They eat their dinner in the living room because the chairs are loud and want to give away the memories they hold.  When they finish, he does the dishes and returns her tight smile. At the mention of the barn, she excuses herself from the room and tells him to go on ahead. She has tears in her eyes.

Me too, he thinks. 

The screen door creaks as it closes behind him. 

* * *

 

**2\.  ANGER**

Chloe arranges three sprigs of orchids she'd brought from Lex's funeral. Crystal vase, purple orchids. Only a handful of people were invited. Clark had received an invitation as well. 

"I get why you'd avoid his funeral but if you want some company, I'll go with you to his grave. He's buried next to his-"

Clark takes the vase and angrily tosses it into the trash, flowers and all. "You really think he'd wanna see me?" He advances upon her and she shrinks back. "He _hates_ me, Chloe. Lex died hating me! I was _there_." 

Her eyes dart to the trashcan and back. Anger surpasses fear and she shoves past him. "He was my friend too Clark," she hisses. "And you might try checking in on Lana once in awhile. You're not the only one who's allowed to mourn him."

She storms out and he kicks the trashcan hard enough to bend the plastic. Two orchids spill out and he runs and runs as far away from them as he can get. When he returns, there's a new bag in the can and a Post It note that reads:

_Believe it or not, I didn't come around to argue. I care about you. I apologize. I should've asked first._

_Love,_

_Chloe_

He makes a short appearance at her apartment shortly afterward and apologizes. He comforts both girls and makes small talk. Leaves before the Lex stories come out. It's customary to speak kindly of the deceased even if they didn't earn such courtesy. He's too angry inside to reminisce.  

They forgive him. 

"Anger means you're healing," says Lana with her hand on the doorknob.

She hugs him and hugs him and he breaks her heart by telling her he can't do this. Date her. Grieve Lex. Visit his grave. Sleep. Eat. 

Chloe gives him a scathing look and he thinks - _I wish I cared._

* * *

 

  **3\.  BARGAINING**

 

Lex has been dead for 3 weeks 5 days when Clark feels strong enough to visit him. He's buried next to his mother and his baby brother Julian. 

Lex has had a stone before when Lionel assumed his son had died in a plane crash over a remote island but Clark only saw it once. He'd fled the funeral and abused his grief in Metropolis.

Lex hadn't felt dead though. 

Clark would've felt it. 

He doesn't feel like Lex is dead now.  Don't misunderstand. It's a devastating loss that literally brings him to his knees in front of the stone but it feels like Lex isn't in there which is absurd but he's _grieving._  

"You've died before and that didn't stick either so you can just reveal yourself and get this over with." 

Nothing changes. Not even a leaf crunching. 

He sighs.

"I'll bend a car for you. Take a bullet. Run really fast. Give you a blood sample to play with. You can even act like a soap opera villain and I won't do anything about it, Lex." He puts his hand over the side of Lex's stone and squeezes until a large chunk falls.

"Or I could show you here. That enough proof for you? It's an ugly stone anyway." 

Nothing.

"What do you want from me, Lex? My family? I've only got mom left but she still cares about you. I don't know why because I sure don't. Or is it Lana you want? Take her, we broke up. My secret? You already know it." 

When his last bargaining ends in a deafening silence he kisses the damaged corner of the stone and whispers a teary,  _I hate you but I love you._

Flowers in hand, Clark bends and places purple orchids in front of Lex's and white lilies by Lillian Luthor's.  He talks to Lex's mother for a little while; about her son and how they used to be. Mentions how Lex used to visit her grave and once, Clark went with him. That was years ago. He doesn't talk about the man Lex grew up to be. Lex wouldn't have liked that. 

When it's time to call it a night, he looks upwards at the stars and universe.  "Goodnight Lex," he whispers. 

* * *

 

  **4\.  DEPRESSION**

 

The 4th stage of grief is depression.

Clark is handling grief well. The anger has blown over, he's made peace with Lex being gone for good, the shock has passed. He's survived the storm. No one asks if he's okay anymore which means he's  _okay._ He writes for the Smallville Ledger and helps mom pay the bills, he cooks them dinner twice a week, he rescues people as the red and blue blur. 

Normalcy means you're over it. 

Or distracting yourself because it's been seven months and you're  _supposed_ to be okay by now. 

Grief wakes him in the middle of the night to send him rushing to the castle and slipping through the gates because Lex is _alive_ in a dream. He's tied up and screaming for Clark but it's muffled and his wrists are red from the thick rope that binds them. Grief takes Clark home in a fog afterward and makes a pot of strong coffee at 1:45 in the morning because sleep brings nightmares. 

On the 7th month on the 6th day, grief carries him to an asphalt grave. He squeezes his eyes shut and plays out the explosion - the heat of the blast, his vomit on the ground in front of the smoking vehicle, Lana sobbing and the wailing of sirens. He'd given his deposition to the police, allowed the paramedics to check him over, called mom from a payphone. 

In another universe, he's walking past the unmarred square where Lex died. They're holding hands and walking to The Talon. Lex is teasing him about flying being a more efficient method of travel and Clark is affectionately calling him a nerd. There are no scorch marks on the pavement and Lex isn't ranting about secrets. In another universe, LexCorp is taking off and Clark is making Lex an honest man. 

_'When we first met, you said we had a future together. I remember feeling like Yes was the only answer. I wanted to be with the boy who called himself a freak and I wanted to prove to him that he was something special. I still do. Lex Luthor, will you marry me?'_

_'Yes.'_

 

 Headlights light up the pavement.

Clark speeds away with damp eyes. 

 

Yesterday, he sobbed in the middle of Fordman's department store and left without buying anything.

Two weeks after that, he cracks jokes with Chloe and says he's happy for Lana who has apparently moved away to the city. 

Four weeks in, he goes on a blind date set up by Pete and forgets what he was talking about mid sentence because she holds her fork like Lex. 

Six weeks into the deepest blackest hole he's ever found himself in, he can't fake it anymore. He sleeps until night falls, exists on bites of food Mom cooks, stays awake and wired until the sun breaks through the horizon. He takes out his old telescope and spends hours peering up at the stars; thinking of the great beyond. 

Stage 5 is acceptance but there's a road block in the way. 

* * *

 

**5\.  (?)**

 

"Hey Pete!" 

Clark saves the article he'd been working on when a familiar face walks through the back door. He turns away to grab him a Coke from the fridge and misses the jacket Pete drops on the table. 

"My doorbell's not broken and you're always welcome," says Pete. "You don't have to stand on the porch."

Clark turns and frowns. "I wasn't at your house." Has he been sleep walking? Is visiting friends in your sleep even a real condition? 

 "Uh-huh and this isn't your jacket. Riiight," Pete replies, accepting the drink. 

Clark pales. 

Pete follows his gaze to said clothing and frantically asks, "What? What is it?" 

"I left it at Lex's."

Two years ago. Clark picks it up and examines it. If there's a red Nyquil stain on the inner pocket, it's definitely his. He'd knocked the bottle onto his discarded jacket and Lex's bed while pouring it into the cup for a feverish Lex. He hardly ever got sick but when he did, it was a big deal. He knows now that it was because Lex had been using himself as a test subject. The experiments had weakened his immune system. 

He'd stayed two nights in a row, refusing to leave Lex to the incapable hands of paid nurses. They'd shared a bed and germs, watched foreign films with subtitles on and he'd listened to Lex deliriously compare him to Warrior Angel for half an hour. They'd kissed when Lex could breathe through his nose and he'd tasted like oranges from their breakfast. 

He'd left his jacket in the bedroom and never asked for it back. Lex must've kept it. 

 

Sure enough, the hardened red mark is still hidden on the inside. 

 

He holds back tears at the influx of memories and clutches the jacket to his chest. They're the only remaining connection to a memory only Lex knows of. 

Pete gapes. "And you weren't at my place? Maybe you forgot." 

"No," Clark replies, "I've been home all night and I was helping mom with a craft fair the night before." 

"Wow that's...do you have a stalker, Clark?" 

"I don't know." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took liberties with details and the timeline. changed some major parts. also in this fic lois doesn't show up or kara. martha doesn't move to washington. chapter 2 is completely non-canon but i'm excited to branch away from it. 
> 
> I promise a happy ending ♡
> 
> thank you for reading. ours is a small fandom compared to most but i'm happy to be here.


End file.
